


Circadian Rhythms

by opusnine



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Goddamn Hug, I need a hug, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, im sad, they're in Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-26 00:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opusnine/pseuds/opusnine
Summary: There were days when Bucky didn't do so well, when his hand was around Steve's throat in a very not-arousing way, or when he woke up from nightmares, armed and ready to attack anything that moved. And as they did everything together, Steve also had not-so-well days, when the only thing that could bring him back from the war was Bucky or a mission. Absentmindedly, Steve realizes that today is one of his not-so-well days, and that Bucky is probably using the last of his patience to deal with Steve's shit.~or,Steve's guilty and Bucky's over it.





	Circadian Rhythms

**Author's Note:**

> this was pure self indulgence. I wanted soft boys and yet still made angsty boys. It's my intention to be softer in the future, until then, rip

Steve let his eyes fall, the tensions in his shoulders - in the air, in his whole hellish life since he's woken up - wash away, his bones and thoughts melt to nothing, and finally, finally, he can breathe again. Relief settles deep in his stomach, warm and delicious as he chases after it -- hands sliding around its neck and waist, lips searching for comfort, for release. Steve finds it when Bucky leans back in for another kiss, Steve finds it in Bucky's hair and in the solidity of his chest. Steve finds it when Bucky's eyes level with his, bright and steady and clear and present.

"I'm here." Bucky promises, over and over again, when Steve clutches onto his arm tighter than he needs to. When he orders (begs?) Bucky to tell him something only the two of them would know. When Steve falls so far down into guilt that he swears to God that Bucky is a hallucination and whywhywhy can you even look at me? Why are you still here when all I've done is fail you?

"I'm safe." Buck reassures, because Steve Rogers is a child and needs the guy that wakes up with a gun in his hand to tell him that everything's gonna be okay. Regardless of the irony, there's no one else on this damned rock that could make him feel the way Bucky does -- safe, loved, seen. And not just as Captain America, but as Steve Rogers. As the kid who puked after rollercoaster rides and dropped out of art school and makes weird analogies to escape awkward social scenarios. Seventy years later and Steve hasn't changed much - besides his new body - but Bucky, on the other hand, suffered. They took everything from him: his life, his arm, his mind. And through all of that, Bucky still came home - came back to Steve, who didn't deserve any of it.

Bucky presses his lips against Steve's inner wrist (the wrist that used to be so small and fragile and useless) when he realises Steve's mind had wandered. It's a gentle, but firm pressure on his pulse, his breath tickling Steve's skin and seducing him to come back. The touch - Bucky - is more soft than he had any right to be, easing Steve's fist to relax, encouraging the blond's fingers to slide against Bucky's jaw and hold his weight as Bucky leaned into him. Part of Steve wanted to cling to his mistakes, wanted to slit his gut open and apologize for every wrong he did towards Bucky. He wanted to relish in his stupidity and he wanted Bucky to be angry at him and lash out and he wanted someone to be as disappointed in him as he was. But the other part of him, the one that kept his head above water (the one that had Peggy's voice, reminding him to respect Bucky's choices), told him that if Bucky could move on, then he had no right fussing over the shit of the past.

Leaning forward with a sigh, Steve pressed his face into the crook of Bucky's neck, his other hand still loosely cupping his face. An 'I'm sorry' hung on Steve's tongue, but he knew it'd be cheap. The two had danced to this song before: Steve saying stupid shit and Bucky telling him that guilt didn't match well with the blue of Steve's eyes. "What does that even mean?", "Means that you've saved me more times than you've lost me. It means that if you look at me like I'm a ghost one more time, I might remind you of just how real I am -- and maybe in ways you won't like, Rogers." There were days when Bucky didn't do so well, when his hand was around Steve's throat in a very not-arousing way, or when he woke up from nightmares, armed and ready to attack anything that moved. And as they did everything together, Steve also had not-so-well days, when the only thing that could bring him back from the war was Bucky or a mission. Absentmindedly, he realizes that today is one of his not-so-well days, and that Bucky is probably using the last of his patience to deal with Steve's shit. He pushes down another wave of apologies.

"Stevie?" He murmurs, the blond humming in reply as he thinks about how generous Bucky is being. On any other day, they'd be cussing at each other like sailors, like back in the day. "What's goin' on in that head of yours?"

Said head short-circuited, overwhelmed with the thought of trying to express itself. "I..." He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything. Steve cleared his throat, mustering his remaining brain cells to try and come up with something comprehensive. "When I came out of the ice," He tried, "Everyone I loved was either dead or dying. Peggy's short-term memory was damaged before she died, and you-" He paused, "You were gone and I can't get drunk and waking up seventy years later without you was like losing you all over again." Bucky carded his fingers through the other's hair, listening quietly, heart steady and loud in Steve's ear. "And I just keep thinkin', Buck, that if I hadn't gotten myself frozen, maybe I would've found you sooner. Maybe I could've stopped decades of torture and-"

"Steve." The other interrupted, his voice a mix of sad and appalled. "You idiot, don't do that to yourself. Don't you dare take responsibility for what they did to me, or for what I did as the Winter Solider."

Steve sounded a lot more broken and angry than he had meant to as he spoke, "No, you had been by my side through everything and all I had to do was hold on." The words were familiar and felt like acid. He remembered how the cold air bit at his fingertips and his nose during the mission. How the adrenline was familiar in his veins and made his hands shake in anticipation. He remembered how easy everything was at that time - the world slow and sensible. But worst of all, he remembered the anger that ripped into his stomach and clawed its way down his throat as he watched Bucky fallfallfallfall. 

Bucky presses their foreheads together. "Steven Rogers, I swear to God, if you spend the rest of our future together talking about whatever regrets you have from the past, I will never forgive you."

"Future-"

"Neither of us are the same people we were before, we've both done things we wish we hadn't, but there is nowhere - nowhere - I'd rather be than right here, with you. Fuck the 'I don't deserve you' shit, because I want you, and the only reason I'll ever stop annoying you for the rest of your goddammed life is when we reach the end of the line."

They stayed like that for a while, in each other's arms, just holding each other and breathing. After Bucky's speech, there wasn't a lot left to say, so they fell into a comfortable silence as Steve tried to digest. He couldn't say how long they sat there, but he decided that he could stay here like this for the rest of his life and be okay.

With a soft hum, Steve mumbled humorously into Bucky's neck, "That sounded like a marriage proposal."

Bucky scoffed, "With whose money?"

"Stark's?" He offered, his grin escalating into laughter as Bucky snorted along with him.

Steve wasn't one to swim in self-pity, and with Bucky smiling at him the way he did (like Steve hung the moon, like he was worth the seventy-year wait, like the metal arm meant nothing as long as Steve was okay) it was hard to stay frowning. "Thank you." He decided, pushing away all those stupid apologies that would never truly explain how he felt. "Seriously, Buck, for everything pre and post war - thank you."

Bucky gave a wicked grin, "Damn, should I get a recorder out? I never want to forget this."

While rolling his eyes with a sigh, Steve pulled Bucky down with him to lay back on their bed. "Buck, I'd thank you for every step you took and every kiss you gave me if you asked me to."

Bucky shifted to get comfortable, gaze as soft as the moonlight through the curtains. "Okay." He breathed. "Then this is me... asking."

Steve knew that Bucky was just humoring him, but part of this was so stupidly serious that Steve could almost be embarrassed. He pushed forward, meeting Bucky's lips. He knows this isn't a solution, or any sort of aid to his guilt and his nightmares. This isn't sure or solid or stable, and it certainly isn't over. But it's okay.

And okay is all they need right now.


End file.
